Legend
by AOSFYCWes
Summary: Three siblings fall into the world of Kingdom Hearts. Only catch-the heroes seem to be missing. Will the three have to take their place?
1. Prologue

Prologue

"Come on guys! You're so slow!" Wesley yelled as she ran across the sand. Her brothers, Mark and Matthew followed behind her, both red in the face and out of breath. It didn't matter how much they all exercised; the three had run farther and faster than they ever thought possible.

"How much farther?!" yelled Matthew. It seemed as though they had run the entire length of the river they were running beside. It was the mighty Ohio River; very wide and extremely long. It almost seemed to be endless.

"Just focus on how amazing it will be to get there!" yelled Mark in an attempt to encourage his siblings. Being the oldest, Mark felt a certain obligation to his younger siblings, a responsibility. He had to be the optimist, the glass-half-full kind of guy; especially when his siblings weren't. He was the model, the example, and, in some occasions-the mediator.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Wesley slowed down right when they were about to collapse. She turned around and grinned at her brothers who were exhausted. Matthew dropped and sat on the ground while Mark bent over with his hands on his knees, both gasping for air. Matthew glared at Wesley as she shifted from foot to foot, waiting for them to regain their strength and composure. She stood by what looked like a cave that opened under a mountain of trees. At the bottom of the opening, a small stream broke from the river and ran into the cove. Matthew pondered why she would be so excited about it, and then turned to wonder how she even came upon this place at all.

"How did you even get this far down the river to find this place?" Matthew questioned. Wesley shifted and looked down, hesitant to answer.

"I never have really. I saw it on a website and I wanted to come see if it was real." She mumbled. Wide eyed, Mark stood straight up and Matthew jumped to his feet.

"You-what? Sis, you dragged us out here and you didn't even-"

"Well it's here. Isn't that all that matters?" Wesley said quickly to try to stop Matthew. "Can't we just please look at it? We came all this way."

"We came all this way because you dragged us to see something 'unbelievable!'" Matthew yelled.

"Shew." Mark whispered. He used Matthew's nickname they had since they were little, trying to calm the situation. He looked at his baby sister, who was begging them to indulge her. He didn't know why she wanted this so badly, but he felt that he needed to support her until he figured it out later. "Why don't we just go look at it. We did come all this way." Matthew stared at his brother, stunned. Slowly, he unhinged his locked jaw and sighed.

"Fine, but we walk back." He begrudgingly agreed. Wesley giggled and nodded excitedly.

"I promise! I just really want to see what's inside." She rambled.

"I thought you hated water and everything in it." Matthew joked as they walked into the mouth of the cove. His siblings laughed and looked around the beginning of the bay. Wesley pulled on her leather jacket, feeling the chill of the water and the cove. She looked around with her siblings in awe.

"Ohh, it's beautiful." She admired, watching purple and blue waves dance on the walls. The water in the stream beside them was perfectly clear. A bright blue almost seem to glow. The more the three walked through the cove, the stranger they seemed to feel.

"Sis, how did you find out about this place?" Mark pressed, fighting the urge to demand they turn around. It was the like the feeling a dog gets when there's bad weather. Or the feeling a mother gets for her children. It was instinctual, and it was growing.

Wesley bit her lip, trying to figure out a way to answer. It was a nervous reflex. One that she hoped neither of her brothers could see. She had found it just rummaging through the internet. But as they walked through the cave, she silently wished they hadn't. It wasn't that the cove wasn't worth finding, no. It was beautiful. It was peaceful with the water quietly lapping. But in the back of her mind-in the back of all their minds-it was quiet. Eerily quiet. The three were too busy looking at each other from the corner of their eyes that they missed what looked like the end of the cave.

There was a dark spot in front of them. Matthew squinted trying to figure out what he was looking at. Mark stayed back behind his brother and sister, attempting to protect them in some way. Wesley played with her hair and glanced around to see what else was on the wall. She was looking around to see, anything. She saw Mark behind her, standing like a bouncer and smiled a little. _Big brother, _she mused, _like to see anything scary take on a big brother._ Matthew continued squinting until he finally saw a shape. He walked closer until he couldn't see his brother or sister anymore. Unfortunately, he also couldn't see the object anymore.

"Shew? Where'd you go? Shew!" Mark called.

"Calm down, I'm coming back." Matthew responded, appearing back before them. "Do you guys have your phones?" Mark and Wesley looked at him and back to each other confused, but obliged. "Good, good-come with me." Mark and Wesley followed him. "I think if we used our flashlights we'll be able to tell what's ahead." Wesley caught up quickly and grabbed a fistful of her oldest brother's green jacket sleeve. Mark smiled in spite of himself; knowing that she was frightened; even as an adult. She needed him to reassure her. He knew this and he smiled, happy to be her strength.

The three journeyed further into the void, rolling their lights across the walls. The air was icy behind them, and only chilled more as their path went on. The water lapped beside them quietly, being pushed by the same mysterious force that wrapped around the three siblings. Wesley glanced around cautiously, her hair standing up on the back of her neck. She was permanently jittery; partly from having many fears and not liking to be scared, the other part from friendly family pranks. She kept her light low, fighting the image of all the possible monster attacks that could happen unexpectedly. She wasn't prepared to fight; nor was she ready to see her brothers in immediate danger. Her entire body shuddered as they progressed, her knees weak and her tugging heart pounding. She hunched, heavy with guilt. If anything were to happen, or if for some reason they couldn't return to the mouth of the cove, it was all on her. Barely an adult, Wesley wasn't yet equipped with what was needed to handle the potential consequence of her actions. She mentally cursed herself, already expecting the worst. It was a completely moronic idea to drag her brothers to a place they knew nothing about-just for the sake of doing it. There was no adventure involved, no buried treasure: no tourists pictures of how magically beautiful the cave was. The place carried no attraction at all; yet for some reason, it drew Wesley right in. And where she went, she was sure to drag her brothers. She understood if her brothers were swearing against her for bringing them out to the middle of nowhere-especially when it seemed they made need someone to come save them. She turned and watched her brothers in an attempt to take her mind off her haunting monsters.

Matthew looked irked, but not alarmed. The way he carried himself made it seem that the survey of the place was tedious, but not dangerous. His brown hair looked considerably darker now as it hung in front of his eyes. Wesley smiled; it was Matthew's tendency to let it get scraggly before a haircut was due. In his mind, the longer it was the harder it was to make a mistake. Little snip by little snip made sure his hair would always come out looking right. Her brothers always had their plans, even over the smallest matters such as hairs. Wesley tried to find comfort in that; if they always had opinions and strategies, they had to have one now, when it was most needed.

Mark looked more alert than Matthew, but no more stressed or worried over the cove. He held his light straight ahead most of the time, making sure to keep an eye on what was before them. Occasionally, when Matthew turned his light to look forward, Mark would turn his behind the group to see if anyone or anything had advanced behind them. It was the only sign to Wesley that he was on his toes for whatever may happen. Satisfied, she stifled the pictures in her head of the monsters attacking to look around the inlet more and be of more help. She decided to turn it against the walls. Everything was so dark, it was possible that the cove turned at one point, or hiding an opening they didn't think of.

Instead, Wesley found scrapes against the walls in odd shapes and lines. Not straight lines, but jagged and uneven. It had appeared to be as if something large and rough scraped against the wall for a long way until the lines finally began to form something. The scrapes and lines turned smooth to curves and shapes. It looked so familiar, Wesley knew she had seen it somewhere before. She walked towards the marks on the walls and studied them further. From them, she recognized easily a star outline attached to a person with another person empty handed on the other side. They were sharing, the two people on the wall. It made Wesley smile to see. The picture couldn't have been made by anyone older than a child. It was sloppy and simple-and only came up to her chest. She stared at it, letting it burn into her mind as she tried to remember just where she had seen it. _Two people, _she thought, _one star. Two kids, one star…!_

"Of course," Wesley rasped, "Of course!" she grinned as she remembered, turning to get her brothers' attention when Matthew spoke quickly.

"Guys! Guys, look at this." He tried not to yell as to not scare his family, but he could not hide his shock. Mark and Wesley turned to see Matthew standing in front of a tall, odd, misplaced-

"Door?" Mark gaped: in front of the siblings, stood a towering door of dark wood with a gold trim tracing its frame. Beside the trim were stars spaced around the door's edge. It was plain, simple; yet still eerie. It was the placement of the door that was haunting: daring. To have to be searched for and sought after made the door seem dangerous-maybe having an air of adventure after all. Matthew smirked, feeling accomplished that it was his idea for the three to use their lights to find it. Mark stared at the door, wondering if they trespassing on someone's property.

"Let's open in it!" Matthew eagerly proposed.

"Are you crazy?" Mark protested, "This could be someone's house!"

"In the middle of a cove?" Matthew countered, "Who would do that?"

"Does it matter who? Obviously this door goes _somewhere_ and I don't want us all to get arrested because of your curiosity!"

Wesley watched her brothers argue back and forth about whether or not the trip was worth the trouble. She couldn't decide who was right. One the one hand, Mark was right; they could walk right into someone's house. On the other, she was with Matthew; she was curious to know what stood behind that door. For reasons even her brothers didn't know at the moment. And how could she tell them what she thought? It all seemed too coincidental; as if someone obsessed made everything look just right, or children came here and played, pretending that it was all real. Either way, all she could do was watch until it seemed she needed to intervene.

"Um, guys?" she quietly murmured, "I think you should look at this." She turned her light onto the wall for her brothers to see. Mark recognized the drawings immediately and walked over to the wall to feel them, to see if the wall was actually there. Matthew, who didn't seem to grasp what the sketches seem to be, watched his siblings carefully; hoping one of them would elaborate on the significance soon.

"These look just like the one's from the game." Mark observed, running his hand over the star shape. "And it's right by the door…" Wesley nodded carefully, not wanting to say anything to annoy her brothers. The air was thick with tension between Mark fighting what his mind was telling him, and Matthew growing irritated that his brother and sister wouldn't share what they were thinking. It wasn't long before he had enough.

"Will one of you just tell me what you're talking about?" he snapped. Wesley and Mark turned immediately to Matthew, surprised looks on their faces.

"Don't you get it?" Wesley responded, still sounding puzzled.

"Obviously not, or I wouldn't have asked." Matthew growled. Mark walked towards Matthew, trying to close the distance so that he could speak low and calm.

"Shew, doesn't this remind you of something? A certain game maybe?" He questioned, trying to lead him in the right direction. Matthew stared back at his brother, trying to follow his lead-but struggling. He walked past Mark over to his sister and the cave drawing to attempt to see what they saw.

"A door," He rambled to himself, "a door with stars, in the middle of a cave. With a drawing of two people holding a star….a star…" Suddenly, his voice caught as he sucked in a breath. In his mind, something clicked. The shape wasn't just a star, it was a star _fruit_. He finally realized where they all three had seen this all before. He turned to face his siblings, wearing an expression of total disbelief. "_Kingdom Hearts_? That's what you're thinking of? The game _Kingdom Hearts_?" he asked, his voice echoing across the narrow path.

"Think about it, Shew," said Mark, attempted to calm his brother down, "It's all just a little too convenient to be together like this."

"It could have been made for fun," Wesley offered. "But all the same, I think we should open the door to make sure." She took hold of her hands tightly, nervous of her brothers' reaction. None of them seemed as irritated or tried as they did before, but they all looked and felt tense about their current situation. After a while, Matthew finally broke the silence.

"Wesley's right. We should just open it." Mark stared at his brother, trying to find a place to stand. He couldn't let his siblings open the door and intrude on whoever was behind it. But if there was a wall behind the door, then they could all finally leave the cove and their fears behind them. And even if they barge into someone's home, they could leave with the assurance that it would be an honest mistake.

"Alright." He said shortly after a few minutes of thought. Satisfied, Matthew walked quickly over to the door, feeling it to find the doorknob, and pulled. And strained. As hard as he could, Matthew tugged onto the doorknob to try to make it open. Then he used both hands, using so much of his strength he should have pulled the handle off the door in any normal circumstance. He grunted until finally, his hands slipped and he staggered backwards.

"Damn," he muttered, "it must be stuck." Mark snorted a laugh and stepped in front of his brother.

"Let me try," he taunted. Mark rubbed his hands together, pretending to get ready for a strength challenge. He took the handle as any person would normally, turned it, and pulled lightly. There was some truth to Matthew's story-it did seem stuck. Mark tugged harder; still no movement. Assuredly irked, Mark pulled with all the anger he had within him. Just as his younger brother, Mark slid off the knob and stumbled back into Matthew. "Alright, I admit it-that thing's not budging." Mark chewed his words, sounding as if his pride was bruised by the defeat.

"We should see if Wesley could get it," Matthew said jokingly, trying to help his brother lick his wounds. Mark laughed along with his brother forcefully, but agreed.

"Yeah, Sis, go ahead and try it." Mark suggested. But their sister wasn't listening. Wesley was past listening to them. They didn't notice that she hadn't moved or said anything since they began trying to open the door. They didn't see that she was just staring ahead, staring past them. Wesley stood, staring straight at the door, not saying a word. Her face was calm and blank- frighteningly so. The moment Matthew touched the door, Mark and Matthew lost their sister. While she gazed on the door, Wesley saw something more than just wood. From the door, a blue halo danced around its edges, pulsing. She saw it respond to her own heartbeat, moving as fast or slow as her heart did. The light around the door was so bright; it almost illuminated the entire cove. She could see her brothers as easily as she did when saw them out by the river. The light was warm, inviting. Nothing about their location seemed haunting as long as the halo stayed. It grew stronger and stronger; a reassuring comfort to her. Soon, with the light came a whisper. _Come..._it called. _Come…_

Wesley obeyed. There was no reason to argue with the light. It was there for the three siblings. The least she could do was listen and follow.

"Sis?" Mark asked quietly, a little nervous about his sister's behavior. When she didn't reply, he looked over at Matthew for suggestions, ideas, or anything that could possibly help. They watched their sister as she slowly crept forward, still not looking at either of them. "Whoa!" Mark exclaimed, taking his sister's arm, trying to keep from moving any farther. "What are you doing? Wesley! Answer me!"

Still, Wesley didn't answer. It wasn't that she couldn't hear her brothers; she could hear them saying something, but everything in her mind was slowed. She couldn't focus on her brothers with the light shining so bright in her face. She couldn't pay attention to anyone but the voice coming from the door, raspy and calling to her. Matthew, fully spooked as this point, grabbed his baby sister and shook her hard.

"WESLEY!" he screamed.

"OW!" Wesley shrieked in reply, throwing her arm out to hit anything near her. It was an instinct she developed when she was young; whenever she was hit, she immediately hit back with no thought or worries for consequences. She blinked and looked around, the cavern suddenly pitch black. She felt the panic creep up her spine, goose bumps rising and tingling in preparation. "M-Mark? M-M-Matthew?" she stammered, feeling tears prick at her eyes.

"Ssh, we're here, baby sister." Mark said soothingly, reaching out and taking her hand. Biting back the tears, Wesley sniffed and gripped at her brother's hand.

"I'm so sorry, I just-everything was so bright and now I can't see you and I don't know what happened." She struggled to apologize through the words, rambling fast before the knot in her throat took over.

"Wes…" Matthew started cautiously, "It's always been dark in here. There was never any light." Wesley whipped her head around, blinking quickly trying to find her brother. She had no luck finding her own hand in the dark, let alone either of her brothers.

"But you're wrong. I saw the light coming from the door. And I heard-"

"Light?"

"Heard what?" The two brother's spoke at once and Wesley nibbled on her lip once more. She knew she needed to explain. The reality was sinking in that her brothers never saw what she saw. And she began to question if it was real. Instead of answering, she blurted out a proposal.

"Let me open the door." Her brothers stared back at her, stunned. Her voice wasn't shaking or slurred with fear. Her voice was calm, determined-confident. Mark and Matthew exchanged glances, still frightened at what happened to their sister. They both fought the urge to press her for more details, accepting that they could do that later. They both nodded to each other and took one of their sister's hand in theirs, leading her to the door.

"If there is a house on the other side, we apologize and we leave immediately. Are we clear on that?" Mark demanded. Matthew and Wesley murmured their promises, anxious to see if the door would open or not. Mark's statement gave Wesley a confidence she didn't know she needed. Mark didn't question if the door would open, but rather would be on the other side of that door. It was a gut belief in her, and she was happy to have it.

She squeezed her brothers' hands tightly as she stared at the door, hoping that what she saw would make sense later. Unafraid, she released their hands and took a deep breath. Slowly, she lifted her hands and pressed them against the door.

_Immediate warmth rushed through her. The familiar warmth she had felt just moments before, confirming that what she had seen was real. The black cave grew brighter and brighter, until there was nothing but blue surrounding her. Wesley turned in circles, panicking. What's happening?! She thought, looking down at her feet, still seeing blue instead of the black ground she was just standing on. _

_ "I knew you could do it." A voice rang. Wesley gasped, circling again to find the source. In the corner of her eye, she saw red. When she was spinning, and when she wasn't; she saw flashes of red. _

_ "What do you want from me? Where's my family?!" she yelled back. The voice laughed, as raspy as when it called to her. _

_ "That feeling, that burn? Get used to it. You'll need it." It taunted. _

_ "Shut up! Shut up and tell me who you are-where you are-and what do you want?!" Wesley was in full panic mode, feeling pushed to her limits. The laughter abruptly stopped. The blue fell silent for what seemed to be an hour's worth of time. Finally, the voice answered; this time more calm and dominant._

_ "Axel." Was all it said._

_ "Axel? What does that mean?" Wesley felt more confused, thinking it may have been a waste to ask it any questions at all._

_ "The name's Axel…got it memorized?"_

"Wesley! WESLEY WAKE UP!" Mark's cry pierced through Wesley's dreams, violently shaking her awake. She gasped, clawing at the air and trying to find a way to breathe. His shout didn't echo like it did before; it didn't vibrate. Matthew and Mark sat quietly, both having one of her hands in each as before, waiting her to calm down from the shock. Slowly, her breaths started to slow and cycle evenly. Wesley blinked and opened her eyes, shocked by the brightness of the room around them. It looked exactly like the blue place she just came or awoke from-except it was all white. There was a floor they seemed to be sitting on it. But the cave they knew was gone forever as far as they could see. A knot tightened once again in Wesley's throat.

"What…what have I done?!" she wailed, throwing her hands up to cover her face. _I destroyed everything. We're dead…_

"You opened the door between the worlds." A new voice rang. It was deep and smooth; monotone and missing all feeling. The three turned to see a hooded figure wearing a black robe. There were silver chains connected to it, dangling off the hood. Mark immediately jumped to his feet, his responsibility to his family kicking in.

"Who are you?!" he demanded.

"This world is connected," the man continued, not paying attention to Mark's demands. Matthew helped Wesley to her feet and held on to her tightly. Even as an adult, she was their baby sister and they would protect her.

"What are you talking about? Do you see any worlds? Any connections?" Matthew called back.

"Tied to the darkness…soon to be completely eclipsed." The man replied. The three were growing irritated by the hooded figure, confused through the fear and the adrenaline. Even the weeping sister in her brother's arms became tired of the stranger.

"Look whoever you are, stop! Can't you see you're freaking her out?!" Mark took a step forward, fighting the urge to hit the stranger. They had all three been working out together, but this hooded man looked stronger than all three of them; and it didn't seem likely that he would fight fair anyway.

"You do not yet know what lies beyond the door." The hooded man never moved, never looked in a different direction.

"What..?" Wesley whispered, afraid that talking may give her fear away. At this, the man turned his head to appear to look directly at her.

"There is so very much to learn. You understand so little." At this remark, the three had finally had enough.

"Listen, you!" Wesley snapped, "how about telling us instead of insulting us! We would understand if you would talk like a normal person!" Matthew gripped his sister tighter, fighting whatever unpredictable move she was about to make. The hooded man scoffed.

"A meaningless effort. One who knows nothing can understand nothing."

"Hey!" It was Matthew's turn to lose his temper. But as soon as the three blinked, the hooded man was gone.

"Who was that guy?" Wesley asked, shivering from the overwhelming fright. Mark walked back towards his siblings.

"I don't know you guys, but didn't that seem familiar to you?" Mark asked. Matthew and Wesley looked back and him and tried to think. It felt like they had heart it all before, but not the way they just did. Something was off.

"He seemed like he wasn't listening to a word we said," Matthew replied, "like he was on autopilot." Mark's eyes widened, making a connection.

"Or he was following a script?" He said carefully, slowly; making sure his family swallowed every word. Wesley nodded quickly, understanding at once.

"Just like the game!" she exclaimed. Wesley stopped quickly, wanting to ask the question they were all thinking but too afraid to do so. Matthew swallowed hard, knowing it was his turn to speak.

"But why did it happen to us this way? Why didn't it happen like the way it was in the game?" Mark shook his head. Knowing what would happen after what he said next.

"I don't know guys, but I have a feeling something big is coming."

It was like a cue. After the words left Mark's mouth, the three felt the ground shake. Wesley cried out in fear and they all grabbed for each other.

"What's happening?!" she cried, the tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

"I think you know what's happening," Mark replied gravely.

"Sis, you know it's going to be okay-you have to calm down," said Matthew in an attempt to sooth his sobbing sister. It was no use, Wesley was going into hysterics. She gasped for air, trying to fight her brothers' grasp to grab at her own throat and chest.

"Wesley! Look at me!" Mark demanded. Wesley looked at Mark, hiccupping between sobs and violently shaking her head. "Calm down. Breathe, you know what's coming." Mark warned. And he was right. She did know what was coming. She knew when the ground began to shake; she just didn't want to believe it.

Just as predicted, a pool of darkness appeared around the three siblings. Wesley screamed once more, trying to move her feet to run. The darkness broke off into whip-like lines and wrapped itself around their legs. "MARK! MATTHEW!" Wesley shrieked.

"Hold onto us!" Matthew yelled over her cries.

"DO NOT LET GO OF US. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! WE WILL BE OKAY!" Mark screamed to his brother and sister. Wesley gripped her brother's wrists tighter as she wailed. The darkness made its way up their torsos and slowly up to their necks. "Just close your eyes Wesley! Breath and close your eyes-and DO NOT LET G-"

But they were already under the darkness.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

They were falling. Through the oblivion they were falling. The three felt weightless, free falling alongside each other. They were no longer gripping one another, for they could not feel their own weight or bodies. They couldn't feel the space between them growing. Soon, the three went in different directions, their bodies turning upside down to float rather than free fall through the darkness.

Mark opened his eyes, unable to recall the rest. He stood, at the top of a tower in a sea of darkness: nothing around, above, or below him. "Shew…?" he croaked, "Wes…?" He turned in circles, looking for some sign of them. Some indication that he wasn't alone, and that he didn't lose his siblings. But there was no answer. He ran across the floor he stood on until he almost fumbled off the edge. "AH!" he yelled, falling backwards to keep from falling into the dark abyss. Hitting the ground, he trembled, kicking his feet and pushing himself from to edge to the middle of the platform. _Breathe, _he begged himself, _breathe, and calm down. And then find them._ Mark rolled onto his knees and took long, slow breaths. Slowly, he stood, deciding to look at his surroundings; however lacking.

Mark stood in the middle of a tower that seemed to appear from nothing. He didn't know if it was in his mind or real, but it either way he was stuck. The floor he stood on was a wide, very large circle; the bottom decorated with a stain glass picture and glowing. Mark looked down at the picture only seeing a little bit at a time. Around the edges were hearts, with different creatures in them. Each sharing glowing green eyes and a familiarity to him. _Heartless,_ he acknowledged. The heartless were creatures from _Kingdom Hearts_ that would attack and steal the hearts of the characters for their leader. Mark swallowed, realizing he didn't account for the heartless in this journey. It all seemed exciting before, falling into the world of the game. But now, the fear sank in. Not only fear for himself-but for his siblings. If they were separated, where were they? Were they on a platform? Or in a world by themselves, fighting off heartless?

Mark shook his head. _I can't think like that, I can't. I have to stay calm for Wes-for Matthew. I have to stay calm and try to find them._ He took another deep breath and decided to keep looking at the floor.

There was a white line going down the center, separating two scenes. One the left side of the scene was heartless, practically crawling over each other to get to the white line. Or rather what was behind the white line. "What the-?!" Mark exclaimed, running down to the bottom of the platform to get a better look. The picture he was looking down upon was a fight. A fight between the heartless and four others on the opposite side of the white line. The white line was actually a door between the enemies; being pushed shut by the four behind it. Mark instantly recognized them, "It's us!" he yelled, dropping to his knees. Holding the door shut was his brother and himself, wearing the same black jacket as the hooded man before, but wearing black blindfolds. Behind them was Wesley, holding a sword in the shape of a key, standing firm against the enemies beside a fourth hooded figure. It was a mouse, who came up to Wesley's chest. It was Mickey Mouse, from all the Disney movies he grew up watching; and in this game, he was King Mickey. _Is this supposed to happen? _He shuddered, _is this real?_

"Denial…"

Mark turned quickly, shaking from the sudden voice. It wasn't his, it wasn't his thoughts,-and it wasn't even a guy's voice.

"Anger…"

He spun again; the voice coming again from a different direction. "Who's there?! Just tell me who's there!" he screamed, walking to the middle of the floor. Suddenly, the air moved around him as he heard a whisper in his ear:

"Bargaining."

Mark threw his arm out and spun, trying to hit or stop or at least make contact with whoever was talking. To feel something tangible in hopes that he wasn't talking to a ghost. He could not handle much more. It was different to play the game. It was different to watch someone else go through it. It was the character's life being threatened, not his. He didn't have unlimited lives, he didn't have the option to continue, or reset the game if he did something wrong. His siblings didn't have that option. They only had this life. And they had to be careful with it. He couldn't sink into the fear, into the sadness. The immense urge to give up. He had to move forward and fight. So if, for once, he had to be violent: he was going to be violent.

As he turned, he saw nothing. No person, not even a flash of eyes or hair. He stood staring out into the darkness, stunned, frustrated and tired.

"Depression…" the voice rang, singing like a child. Mark balled up his fists, feeling his cheeks getting hot with anger.

"GO AWAY!" he snarled, throwing his hands to his head. _It has to be in my head. It has to be._ He stopped, holding his hands on his temples, trying to think. Trying to think of anything that would calm him, anything that could be explained. _Think logically, Mark. Just think._ He was inside a game. A game where anything could happen. He was inside a game that he played before. _I've played this before, but not like this. _Nothing happened like they thought it would. All three referred to the game for what would happen. But everything happened differently than they all expected. Just like now. Mark knew what happened in the game-but chances are they wouldn't happen that way to him. Just like the voice appearing. _So…its real._

"Acceptance." The voice said clearly. There was no echo, no whisper. It sounded from behind Mark. Not too close that it was in his ear, but just behind him. The voice was calm, not teasing, not giggly; just stating. When Mark accepted that she was real, and not in his imagination, it was as if the voice did the same. "These are the five stages of grief." She went on to explain. Mark didn't bother to turn around. Every time he did she vanished. He was sure she wouldn't be standing behind him even if he turned to look. He wasn't afraid of her, or afraid of where she came from. He wasn't afraid of what she may or may not do. He was tired. So when the silence came, he let it. When she stopped talking, he assumed she was gone. He let her be gone so he could be tired. So he have a moment before he had to face the next fear. But she wasn't done, and neither was the journey. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard a whisper in his ear.

"Your journey is just beginning." She whispered. As she whispered this, three pedestals rose from the ground, each holding a different object; the first, a wand, the second, a shield, and the last, a sword. Mark stared at them, with a faint smile. Finally, at last-something he recognized. Finally, something he could handle. As if the woman beside him knew, she whispered, "Now choose."

And then she was gone.

Tears spilled over Matthew's cheeks onto the ground. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. All he wanted to do was scream. But he couldn't take in a breath to scream-so he cried. _I can't do this. I can't-I won't! _He yelled in his mind. He trembled, staring at the scene before him. The floor was covered in fire. Amid the flames, stood Matthew; wearing the same coat as the hooded man from before, wearing a grin. His eyes were covered behind a black blindfold; _All the better, _thought Matthew. His picture self was grinning menacingly; so wide it was evil. Whatever his eyes looked like under the blindfold, Matthew decided it was better that they stayed covered. Among the inferno fell hearts; each either on fire, or disintegrating as if they were as thin as paper. The souls fell around the evil-picture Matthew, making the whole scene look not only as if he was enjoying it-but that he _caused_ it. _This can't be real_, he thought in an attempt to calm down, _there have been countless floors in the game and they never meant anything. They were just pictures._ Matthew could feel bile climbing up his throat. He took deep breaths in an attempt to keep down whatever was coming, even though he thought vomit would be a good way to cover up the sight. _Just calm down. This is only a picture-it will stay a picture. You will not let it become a reality. _Matthew looked up and stared into the oblivion, trying not to think of anything. He just wanted to be emotionless; not afraid, not mad, not depressed, not even tired. He took himself into a deep trance; he changed his mind about being tired and let it take over him. Exhaustion was a good way to keep from feeling anything. So he felt tired, and stared. Matthew was so deep in thought; he completely overlooked the three pedestals rising from the ground. Even as the floor shook beneath him, he assumed it was his own body trembling so he ignored the shakes and kept falling into his daze. It was only after the shaking stopped that he realized it was not his body at all and decided to look around.

Matthew turned to see the pedestals his brother just saw. All were familiar to him, and it lifted a small amount of the weight off his shoulders. _At last, something I can control._ As he made this thought, he walked forward to the first stand, holding a wand. The wand was black up the stem until the wood bent and turned like a lightning bolt. The top was blue with a brown pointy hat sitting at the very top.

"Power of the Mystic," a voice rang, "inner strength. A staff of wonder and ruin. Is this the power you seek?" Matthew picked up the wand and looked at it for a second. Shaking his head, he scoffed.

"I don't think so." He put the staff back onto the pedestal and looked at the two other options. On the second stand floated a shield; simple circle with the same shape of Mickey's head black in the middle. The shield itself was a light blue with gold rings in it. Matthew picked it up and slid it up his arm. Wrapping his fingers around the inside cusp, he shoved forward on his feet; pretending to defend himself against various enemies. He moved and spun and lunged; yet something still felt off.

"Power of the Guardian," the voice rang again. Matthew stopped as he listened, "Kindness to aid friends. A shield to repel all. Is this the power you seek?" Matthew stared at the shield for a minute, feeling some pull at him. He couldn't place it, but he felt the need to seek the power to defend-to protect. Whatever the feeling was, he couldn't place it; so instead he set the shield down. It wasn't sitting well with him, so he knew he couldn't choose that power.

The next and last pedestal held the final choice. The sword was simple; standard model, long, shiny and sharp. The bottom hilt was a dark blue and on it was an etched design of a crown over an open heart. "Oh yeah," Matthew gasped, "this is what I'm talking about." He picked up the sword, feeling flooded with power. It was as if the sword was an extension of him. It felt right in his hand. As if it had been a part of him all along-only he hadn't known it. The fear left him; all the frustration subsided; the questions he had seemed suddenly unimportant.

"Power of the warrior," the voice rang one last time. Matthew didn't let the voice finish.

"This is the power I seek," he stated, "absolutely." He threw his arm out in a swing and the sword vanished from his hand. Matthew looked around him, attempting to find where it had gone.

"How utterly cocky."

Matthew turned quickly; it was the same deep voice from before. He spun to find no one, though he was sure he had heard the same voice.

"Only a child, playing with toys." The voice rang from a different direction. Matthew stumbled as he turned to try and find the source.

"Show yourself!" he demanded. It wasn't fear he was feeling. It wasn't anxiety : it was anger. Red, hot, and burning him up everywhere. Matthew was tired of this. All the twists and turns; not knowing what he could and couldn't believe in. He needed foundation. He needed answers.

"Power of the warrior," the deep voice sounded once more. Matthew blinked and there he stood. The same hooded man from earlier. The one that Matthew couldn't help but blame. If he hadn't shown, they would be back in Ohio. All would still be right-he would still be getting married. "_Invincible courage_," the hooded man said mockingly. Matthew glared at the man, his fist clenched so tight his nails began to dig into his palms. His thoughts fueled his anger that much more, and he felt a fire burn inside. Courage wasn't what Matthew needed: it was patience, and a good heart. _I could never take this guy…but that doesn't mean I wouldn't hit him if I had the chance._

"A sword of terrible destruction." The hooded man spoke slowly, and Matthew could almost hear the smile in his voice. The anger fell from him as each word sank in, cutting through his previous thoughts.

"It's not real…" Matthew whispered, trying to breathe but finding it was significantly more difficult than he remembered it being before. _A sword of destruction_. The sentence repeatedly rang in his mind. Matthew's knees grew week as he looked down at the floor. _I chose this_, he thought, feeling overwhelmingly ashamed,_I chose the destruction._ Matthew stared down at the fiery abyss on the floor: with him standing in the middle of it.

"And this is the power you seek," the hooded man laughed. As he did, Matthew felt a tremor beneath his feet. He spun to find the pedestals slowing falling back into the tower surface. Panic rose from his gut: he felt his responsibilities crawl on his shoulders and settle. His fiancé-his family needed him. The guilt pricked his skin like goose bumps; he shuddered as the last of the pedestals disappeared into the ground.

"What now?" Matthew asked, turning to face the hooded villain once more.

But the hooded man was nowhere to be found.

Wesley gripped the wand to her chest almost protectively. The pedestals had disappeared and she was once again alone. It was something that had been happening frequently since she had been separated from her brothers, but it wasn't getting any easier to deal with. She moved to the center of her column and looked around, mentally preparing herself for an enemy. But none came. She bit her lip, fighting the overwhelming fright. Instead, she stared at the floor and tried once more to find its meaning.

All three siblings stood side by side, all smiling. They wore the same jacket both her brothers had seen before and all wore blindfolds. They each carried a weapon along the same lines as the characters from the game she entered. They were long like swords but wore the head of a key-shape. _Keyblades_, she thought. It made sense-she had seen them before. But she didn't know where the cloaks had come from.

"Aw, don't like my outfit?" called a voice. Wesley gasped and turned to see no one. "Ah, ah, ah," the voice sang

"Not that easy." Wesley froze, waiting for the hidden man to attack, when she realized-

"Axel," she breathed, "You're the voice from before." Wesley gripped the wand even tighter; believing he may not be all that friendly. And when it came to fight-or-flight-she was forced to fight. No voice responded; instead, slow, drawn out claps echoed through the darkness.

"Well done," he spoke right behind her. Gasping, she turned to see a tall, skinny man wearing a long black cloak. He had long flaming red hair with bright green eyes. Under his eyes, he had two black marks that looked like scratches down his cheeks. Or the marks jesters would have under their eyes. Unlike a jester, however-he looked anything but happy.

"You don't look happy to see me," he pouted, moving towards Wesley. Wesley stepped back away from him, and Axel moved forward towards her in response. She stepped back again, and Axel moved forward accordingly. Gradually, he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Wesley could feel the end of the column coming closer, and fear crept up her spine. Her knees started shaking, and she felt they could fall out beneath her at any second. "Hold it!" he warned huskily. Wesley felt an arm go around her waist and she let her legs give out. Axel grunted and pulled her closer into him, her body trembling. They stood; Wesley breathless and afraid and Axel trying to keep her on her feet.

She rested her head on Axel's shoulder, tucked under his chin. Axel could feel her breaths on his neck, causing a shiver to run through him. Wesley couldn't hold back her panic-she didn't understand. She didn't know what he was doing, or what he was planning. She tried to find the strength to stand, run, push him away-something. Axel could feel her tensing up in his arms and pulled them away from the edge. It would've been simple to let her go, to let her fall over the edge. To let her die. Yet, while she stood in his arms, he couldn't fathom why he couldn't let her go now.

"Why…?" Wesley whispered into his neck. Axel quivered, where did she get to courage to even talk? "Why didn't you let me fall?" He tightened his grip around her, hesitant to answer. He didn't know why, and it almost felt like she knew he didn't have a reason. He abruptly let go of Wesley and she dropped to the ground. Panicking, Wesley threw her arm out towards Axel in defense as she fell. When her arm extended, a keyblade formed in her fist. She gasped and stared at it, frightened that she had yet another weapon. She still had the wand in her other hand, but now there was a keyblade, and she didn't know what to do with it. It glistened in her hand, silver all the way up to the top with a black hilt. Wesley stared at it, wondering where this blade could have possibly come from. _It came to my defense…_she thought, thinking back to how frightened falling made her. She was sure when he let go of her she was going to fall into the abyss. She stayed on the ground gripping the keyblade up towards Axel. He put his hands up, finding his cocky smile once more.

"Easy, babe; you were just heavy." Wesley kept the keyblade pointed at him and stood slowly. The fear left her, and a glare grew through her. It's one thing to act like a charmer-but even he should know not to call a woman fat under any circumstances.

"Then you shouldn't have bothered," Wesley spat, bruised ego and nerves frayed. Axel chuckled, shaking his head with a sigh. He shrugged and winked at her, making Wesley all the more agitated. "I want answers-NOW!" Axel ceased laughing, and stared at her hard, narrowing his eyes.

"Do you even know how to use that thing?" He accused. Goosebumps ran up Wesley's arms like a wave rushing to the shore. It never occurred to her to try her hand at either the wand or keyblade in her hand. It was never difficult-she just mashed buttons on a controller; the video game characters did the rest. Axel jutted out his chin with a cocky smile. "I'm taking that as a no." As he said this, he crouched down and pulled his arms into him. Wesley stared, and tried to think of ways to brace herself. His hands began to catch fire and as he stretched, the fire climbed up his arms until two weapons appeared in his hands. The weapons in his hands were identical spheres with spikes all around the edges. Fire pulsed from his fists around each weapon, making them look that much more deadly. Wesley gasped and began to tremble with fear once more. She looked at the key blade in her left hand, and her wand in her right and realized she had no idea what do in a combat situation. "Say hello…" Axel growled as he began to move towards her, "to my Eternal Flame!"

He jumped, and Wesley lost sight of him. It was almost as he disappeared, that he jumped off the edge; but before she knew it she was crossing the wand and keyblade in defense of his first attack. Axel landed above her and pushed down on her counter until Wesley dropped down on one knee. _What I would give for a fire extinguisher right about now…_Wesley thought, pushing all her strength against his burning violence. She pushed hard until she was finally standing again, surprised that she was even able to manage that.

"Too cocky." Axel declared, and he pushed with one last attack to knock the wand out of Wesley's hand. The flare from his assault licked her hand and she pulled it close to her, crying out in pain. "Watch it now, pretty girl!" Axel didn't waste a second: his second move was already on her. He lunged for her side, and she just barely jumped to the side away safely, forcing her dangerously close to the edge.

"I can't win…" she whispered, turning to see Axel spinning his daggers, watching her with a glare. She turned and looked at her hand, losing her nerves. It wasn't a game. It was nowhere near just a game anymore. She didn't feel the pain the characters felt-they never showed the pain, just the health bar going down. All that she needed to do was give the character a potion or find green orbs and everything was fixed. She gulped, not knowing what to do next. She looked at the keyblade, and tried her best to ignore her stinging palm while she held her weapon with both hands. She crouched down, hoping to steady herself to block another attack if nothing else.

"Had enough?" Axel taunted, tossing his weapons between his hands. Wesley glared back at him; still feeling the fear climbing her legs, but refusing to let it get to her hands. She moved forward, making sure to put enough space between her and the edge, and moved her feet to prepare herself. Axel let out a chuckle, "I'll take that as a no!" He jumped once more and Wesley took a deep breath. He was coming-and fast. She didn't have time to worry about where he went-only where he was coming next. She felt a rush of air behind her and quickly spun on her heel, bring her keyblade up and around with all her weight behind it. The two met with a sharp clang, a jolt running through her hands and up her arms. Axel looked at her with wide eyes behind his two wheels. Growling, he spun quickly, bringing his weapons with him with a more intense energy than before. The daggered covered spheres met with Wesley's keyblade once more, and sent it falling into the abyss.

"No!" Wesley cried, running towards her last hope. She skidded to a stop at the edge and dropped to her knees to crawl and look over the edge. Axel's chuckle broke out behind her, sending her into a break down. She turned to see his weapons gone; just him with his arms crossed. _Dick…_she couldn't help but think when she saw the smile on his face. "You don't have to look so happy about this…" she whispered, fighting back the tears. This was it-she lost, and now this was the end. Before her game even started, Wesley was going to lose her only life. She fumbled to her feet and walked forward, never taking her eyes off Axel's. If he was going to kill her-she was going to watch him do it. Wesley stopped to smile: it only took a day in the game to turn her into a disturbed masochist. She never considered herself brave or logical: she was dreamer at best, always believing in fairytales. But this prince charming didn't want to make her royalty-no, for some reason he didn't want a princess in his story.

Axel dropped his arms as he saw the determined look on her face. "What's wrong pretty girl?" she stopped walking as they met in the center of the column. Wesley tried to laugh through the tears as she thought of the answer to his question. What was wrong? What _wasn't _wrong? What could she do now? She was what was wrong. She was the one who brought her brothers into this game. She was the one who taunted Axel into lighting her hand on fire. She tore Matthew from his fiancé. She tore Mark away from his life when he was finally getting his big break as an actor. She was the one who wasn't leaving anyone or anything behind. It was her idea to go to the cove. She was the one who opened the door. It was her-_she _was what needed to go. But she didn't say any of this to the stranger she had just met that she was fairly confident wanted to kill her.

"You think I'm pretty?" she said instead, with a hysterical giggle. Axel frowned and crossed his arms once more. Looking almost as if he didn't know how to deal with her. He smirked once more and slipped an arm about around her waist. Wesley pressed her palms on his chest, waiting to try and push away from him. But she didn't expect what he did next.

He slipped his other hand under her jaw and pulled her face up to his, bringing his mouth down on hers. It was soft at first, as he probably meant only to give her a light kiss; but the moment flooded them both and his lips moved against hers harder and harder to the point where he nibbled on her bottom lip. Wesley left her palms on his chest, taking fistfuls of his cloak in her hands. But as soon as he got over heated, Axel broke the kiss off at once, growling in a deep breath. They both stood gasping, and Axel laid his forehead on hers.

"Careful babe…." He spoke through the breaths, "not everyone will be as blinded by you as I am." And with that, he let her go and disappeared. When she opened her eyes, a staircase unveiled itself and formed into a spiral to a next column of light. Wesley stared at it, unsure whether or not she wanted to continue. She could find another enemy on the next tower-meaner than Axel. An enemy that would not hesitate to throw her over the edge. _Or might try to kiss me_, she mused. _Did I step into a game or a teenage girls love novel?_ The steps began to pulse, waiting for her first step-waiting for her decision.

On the other hand, her brothers could be on the next column, and they would be reunited. Would they even want to see her after the mess she had gotten them into? Wesley shuddered at the thought of what her brothers were forced to go through-if Axel was bad to her, what did her brothers encounter?

Wesley let her knees give out to the floor where she sat, trying to catch her breath. She sat, trying to make sense of all the things she encountered so far.

First, she had somehow fallen into _Kingdom Hearts_.

Second, she needed to find her brothers.

Third, she had an ominous feeling that the fate of this particular story rested solely on her shoulders.

And last, if she was not more careful-

It was going to be game over.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Wesley placed one foot on the first step, and it held firm under her weight. She looked up the steps that followed behind the first and took a deep breath. Her hand pulsed in pain, almost as a reminder that if she was going to continue her journey, she had to be cleverer. So far she had lived against her first fight-only because Axel was gracious enough to let her live. _He's toying with me…making the game to kill me much more fun_. Of course, he was like a cat playing with a mouse before the cat kills it. There's no fun in killing a mouse that doesn't put up a fight. She blinked, bringing herself out from her thoughts. _I can't focus on what coulda-shoulda-woulda-happened. I have to move forward and get stronger. I have to make sure I am never that weak again. _Wesley took another step, then another. She didn't have her brothers here to protect her. And even if she did-they didn't have time to keep her alive: Mark and Matthew had their own lives to worry about. _I can't continue this journey behind the protection of others. I have to live and fight for myself._ Wesley knew this was easier said than done. Within the first few moments of actually having a keyblade, she lost it into the eternal darkness. She was able to pick up her wand after Axel had disappeared, and now all she had to do was make sure she didn't lose it as well.

In her defense, Wesley managed to make it halfway up the glowing steps before tripping and falling toward the edge. She held out her hands, screaming, preparing herself for the worst. As she threw out her hands, a light shot out and up the stairs, bouncing her back onto the ground. Wesley fell onto her side, shivering and paralyzed with the fear of what almost was. Her body grew warm and she bit her lip. "Stop…being…such a coward!" she exclaimed. _So you almost fell-the point is that you are still alive. So get up._ After a few more deep breaths, and a few more choice words for herself, Wesley managed to rise to her feet.

"No matter what happens…you will never let yourself be afraid." Wesley made the quiet promise to herself, dusting off her jeans. She placed her hand on the invisible wall once more, letting the rush of light calm her even more. "Back home you were afraid-it can't be the same here. This is where heroes are born."

Wesley took to the steps once more, silently wondering if she was ever going to make it to the top. She kept Axel's warning in the back of her mind, along with his glowing green eyes and his rough voice. A smile crept over her mouth, and she let it linger. The thought of him calmed her, though he was the one thing that should scare her the most. Maybe it was the danger of him. Or maybe it was the kiss he gave her. The kiss that she was sure was meant only to taunt her, or anger her. The kiss that instead, set off something in them, and overwhelmed them. Wesley couldn't think of a time where she felt anything close to what she felt when Axel kissed her, and she wondered if Axel couldn't either. She smiled, realizing it was both the thrill of threat of him, and the tingle her lips still felt from his kiss.

Wesley stopped, and shook her head. Here she was, separated from her brothers, wounded, and thinking of the very man who hurt her. She was focusing more on a person she just met, when she should be worried about finding Mark and Matthew. If she was hurt, she couldn't even bear to think of what shape her brothers were in. Were they hurt badly? Did they have their keyblades? She couldn't bring herself to think of the worst. Instead, she decided that she was going to see them again, very soon-wounded or not. As she climbed, she mused over what choices her brothers made when faced with the three pedestals. Mark would, of course, choose the keyblade and step into the role as the leader and the hero. She had chosen the wand; this had left Matthew with the keeper of the shield. It was understandable; Matthew was her older, protective brother, and he was (before she forced them all into the game) about to be the protector of his fiancé. The three siblings could make it through this game, as long as they found each other.

Wesley had begun to see the end of the steps and the beginning of the next platform. Her heart leaped; her brothers were up there-she was sure of it. Growing with excitement, she began to run. She found new strength and energy behind her, her fear replaced with the joy she felt at the thought of seeing Mark and Matthew again. She could see the top-it was almost there. Just a bit more-

A scream erupted.

It was so sudden, so high-pitched, that Wesley dropped in a knee-jerk reaction. Something was coming and it wasn't good. Something scurried behind her and she jumped to follow it. A black shadow crawled around on the floor and emerged, glowing gold eyes with it. Wesley's eyes widened, "Heartless." She should've prepared for the heartless to attack at any moment. Instead, she got cozy with a stranger and let her defenses down. This was what _Kingdom Hearts_ was all about-fighting the heartless.

The scream was pounding in her ears, keeping her from focusing on the heartless in front of her. She glanced around, frantic to find the source of the shriek. _It's you…you're screaming!_ Wesley bit down on her lip hard to silence herself. She didn't have time to scream-she had an enemy to face. The heartless cocked its head at the sight of her, and lunged: claws first. Wesley gripped the wand, holding it as she would the keyblade. She still didn't know how to use the wand-but she knew, worst-case scenario, she would use it like a club against the heartless. She swung as hard as she could and connected to the heartless, sending it flying towards the force field. She swelled a little with pride, deciding when it hit the force field she was hit it again until it finally disappeared. The heartless, however, didn't hit the force field. It never hit the invisible wall. Instead, the heartless went past the steps and fell into the oblivion. Wide-eyed, Wesley ran towards the edge and the wall knocked her back in response. Confused, she poked the invisible wall and watched the light ripple endlessly. Satisfied, she turned and rested against the force field.

Her lungs burned, and her chest felt tight. She heard the sound of water droplets hitting the floor and she looked at her feet. It wasn't water-unless water was red in the world she was in. However, she didn't think so. She looked at the ground, and slowly began to realize she was holding her right arm._ Why…_ she thought, then abruptly remembered. She began to shriek again. As if on cue, her right shoulder-blade began to burn, sting and ache. The pain was horrible, and she found herself begging that her arm would just fall off if that meant the pain would stop.

"Why….?" She whimpered, fighting back the urge to sob. "Why am I always under attack?" But the top was so close, and she knew she couldn't stay on the steps. She leaned on the force field for support as she walked. Anger, fear, and pain all danced in her mind, taking turns in importance as she rested. Wesley was so tired of being under attack, and the more pain she felt, the more her blood boiled. She tried to think of anything else, but her throbbing shoulder kept her from thinking about anything else. _Are there still potions…?_ She stumbled up the last few steps, trying not to think of how deep the wound on her shoulder was. It must have happened when the heartless appeared. "The…bastard must have scratched me." After the sentence left her mouth, Wesley giggled giddily. The amount of profanity she was using was in no way lady-like; but at this time, Wesley couldn't find the time to care.

When she reached the last step, a smile spread and she opened her arms, expecting to see either Mark or Matthew at the top. Instead, she gritted her teeth at what she found. After the battles she had endured, after all she had gone through to get to the top of the stairs, Wesley couldn't believe it.

"Are you KIDDING me?"

Matthew stood firm, face to face with a shadow. Its eyes were glowing, haunting. _Breathe Matthew;_ he took slow breaths through his nose. The shadow heartless didn't move, just shifted, and watched. _You know how to do this._ Matthew took one more deep breath and held it.

They met with a clang; clashing of claws and metal. Matthew jumped back, shocked. He didn't remember the heartless moving-it was too fast to notice. He never had to worry about it before. Before, it was the character's problem, and the shadow heartless seemed like the easiest to beat. _Yeah, everything seems easier until you actually do it._ Matthew scolded himself; he should have already known this wasn't going to be easy. Nothing has been stress-free-it's been the opposite. Now was not the time to be afraid, not of a shadow.

The shadow lurched forward, claws first. Matthew threw his blade up to block once more. The shadow moved, climbing the keyblade instead. Matthew exclaimed and shook the blade, effectively knocking the heartless back onto the stairs. _Talk about unfair fighting,_ Matthew thought. He didn't remember the heartless being so ruthless in the game. They were puny; and all they did was jump at the characters.

Matthew staggered to the side, hitting the force wall. The vermin moved once again, again too fast for Matthew to catch. It was his peripherals that saw the shadow approaching. He stumbled up a few steps until he finally fell back against the protective wall. "Argh..what is it with you, you stupid thing!" he yelled. Matthew jumped and brought his keyblade down, but the heartless was too fast. It sank into the ground and moved behind Matthew, reappearing and shifting once more. Matthew turned fast enough to see the heartless' claws and ducked. He cheek stung as he watched the heartless jump backward. _Not only can I _not_ beat this thing-I let it scratch me!_ Matthew growled, his cheeks growing hot and his hands shaking slightly. The heartless jumped once more, higher than before, and Matthew stood firm. As it came down, it seemed to disappear among the darkness of the background behind it, including its glowing eyes. Matthew began to worry, and scanned the view around him.

The clang of the metal was loud, ringing in Matthew's ears. His squeezed his eyes shut as soon as he got a glimpse of the heartless' glowing eyes. When he opened them, he saw not one, but two blades crossed in front of him. His eyes widened. _Two? Why two?_ The heartless wrapped its teeth around one of the blades and began to mash its teeth against it, causing more of a clanking sound. Matthew shook it off once more. After the heartless landed, Matthew smirked, feeling more confident, as if the second weapon boosted his strength. In one swift move, Matthew crossed his legs, spun on his heel and threw both his arms out. He dropped to one knee as he watched the shadow heartless shred, and then disappear.

Matthew stood, standing proud. It wasn't the fight he imagined, but he managed. He hadn't had the chance to practice using the weapon yet, and he realized that should be the next step; now that he now had two. He took each step carefully, making sure to be alert for any possible threats. He stopped abruptly and stared at the two weapons. The top was in his sights, making Matthew shiver with anticipation. Whatever was on the next column, he had to be ready for. He wasn't going to get his hopes up; the chance his siblings were up there was slim. They wouldn't find each other immediately after being separated. They needed to accomplish something before seeing each other again. Just what it was, Matthew couldn't figure out, no matter how the feeling nagged at him.

Whatever was waiting for him on the next platform, Matthew had to be ready. He took a deep breath and began to swing the keyblades around him. In his world, he would never be able to fight or move the way he had been able to in the game. _It has to be from the game_, he thought, _a boost or something, to keep us alive._ At his last thought, his cheek began to sting again. He rubbed the back of his hand over the wound, wiping the blood onto his jeans. He made a mental note to find a potion as soon as he could.

This was more dangerous than any of three imagined. _It wasn't like we chose to come here_, Matthew thought. He shook his head, trying to push out the negative thoughts. It was a choice to open the door; they could have left without opening it. Matthew wanted to open it; even if he didn't bring them to the cove, he brought them into the game.

"No," he muttered, "this isn't a game-it's a different world." If it were a game, his cheek wouldn't be bleeding. The fight wouldn't have taken so long if it were a game. He would have been able to do more. More than just fancy foot work. He took another breath, deciding it will come with practice. He reached his fingers to touch the scratch once more, thinking of his brother and sister. Were they hurt? His fingertips felt cold at the thought. He shook his hands free from his weapons, trying to find some feeling in his hands. He didn't hear the sound of the keyblades when they hit the ground; all he could hear was the pounding in his ears. Panic gripped his throat, his breath. Matthew dropped to his knees, his hands barely holding him up.

"Calm…down..." he choked out, "they could be fine. Just fine." He chanted the words in his mind until he could breathe-at least short breaths. He collapsed back against the walls, choking and gasping. _They are fine, _he repeated once more. It was his older brother, who was the gaming king. Mark could play _Kingdom Hearts_ in his sleep. Matthew smirked; he was sure Mark had at one point. As for Wesley, she grew up with Mark and Matthew, who treated her like a punching bag until she was old enough to fight back. _She can fend for herself, _he thought. He was sure of it.

Staring at the columns' top, Matthew slowed. Thinking about his family didn't help-it only worried him. It wasted time; time that none of them had. He bent over and picked his keyblades back up, promising himself he would practice and become a better swordsman. _Okay Matthew, you can have three seconds to be afraid-that's all you get. After that, you stand on that platform. _

First step-one.

Second step-two.

Last step…three.

Matthew stood on the column, tall and brave, holding the keyblades at his side. He gripped them tightly, letting the only tension in his body be in his fists. In front of him stood a girl with light brown hair that curled up at her shoulders. She wore a yellow dress and held jump rope in her hands. Her eyes were so wide and so innocent; she looked so young. Matthew stepped forward cautiously, not wanting to judge her by her appearance. The shadow looked almost harmless too, until it lunged at him with bared teeth.

"What's most important to you?" she spoke so swiftly, Matthew shuddered with a start.

"What?" Matthew asked, unsure what she meant.

"What's most important to you?" she repeated, furrowing her brow. Matthew couldn't fight the slight smile on the corner of his mouth. It was the first time he ran into a character that didn't seem to be following a script.

He thought about her question carefully. There was a purpose behind it, and he was going to take the time needed to figure it out. He thought about his siblings, his parents; his fiancé. He thought about the engagement ring that he gave her, and their wedding bands. He wanted to be able to provide for her; give her a good house, clothes-anything. He wanted to make sure she didn't have to want for anything.

"Ah…" the girl spoke again, "I see. Your prized possessions are most important to you. Matthew gasped and shook his head.

"No, that's not it at all!" Matthew argued, "You don't get it, I was-"

But the girl just giggled and disappeared.

Mark thought about the question put in front of him. The teen standing in front of him had broad shoulders, wrinkles around his eyes and spiked up copper hair. He spun a ball on his finger and grinned at Mark.

"What do you want outta life?" the teen asked him before. He had a heavy island accent; so heavy, it took Mark a second just to figure out what he was saying. Mark immediately recognized him as Wakka, one of the boys who lived on _Destiny Island_ with the main character of the game. What did he want out of life? Wakka didn't mean to throw Mark such a loaded question; Mark had a way of running away with anxiety.

What did Wakka mean? Did he want to know Mark's life goal? Or his wishes at the current moment? It was a ridiculous question; he wanted to find his siblings. He wanted to go home.

Home to his parents with his siblings safe beside him. He was always the protector, the oldest. It was his job to take care of his brother and sister, and in his mind, he already failed. Guilt ran up his arms and rested on his shoulders. He thought of his brother, alone and fighting himself. Was he able to defend himself? Pictures of his wounded sister danced in his mind. She was bleeding, calling out his name. Goosebumps ran up his arms; his breath caught tight in his throat. _What if Wes is hurt? It's all my fault!_ He clutched his throat, gasping for air.

"You gotta breathe, yo!" Wakka yelled, smacking Mark on the back. Mark dropped to the ground, the keyblade clanking in front of him. He slid forward under his shield, unable to keep himself up. He ripped the shield off his forearm, and turned to look at Wakka. Wakka reacted when he choked, and physically reached out. He wasn't following a script; he was interacting.

"The question, yo, you gotta focus on the question!" Wakka repeated with a grin. He slipped the ball under his arm, his fists on his hips and leaned back with a hearty laugh. Mark shook his head and sighed. At least the laugh was familiar. Wakka pretended to wipe a tear from his eye and held out a hand to Mark. Mark stared at the hand for a second, knowing when he stood he had to give Wakka an answer. He reached his arm out, making a last attempt to focus on the task at hand. _One step at a time, _he told himself.

What did Mark want out of life? What did he want to be? He wanted to be back to normal. Before they were sucked into the game, he was an actor. He was under the bright lights, in front of an audience that would always remember his name. He wanted to be famous; his name on marquees and on the big screen. He wanted to sing in every city in America on Broadway tours. He was going to be known, if it was the last thing he did.

"Ah, you wanna see da rare sights!" Wakka exclaimed. Mark's eyes widened. _How in the world could he know that_? Mark thought. _I don't even know that!_ He stood quickly with the help of Wakka and watched him carefully. Wakka grinned ear-to-ear, smug. Mark narrowed his eyes as he slipped his shield over his should to rest on his back.

"That's not all that I want out of life." He said sternly. "I want to find my family."

Wakka's grin faded, and his lips pressed together in a somber line. He nodded and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jar with a green star inside. He tossed it to Mark and nodded. "You're gonna need dat." Mark wrapped his fingers around the jar cautiously, still eyeing Wakka. Wakka stepped back into the spotlight, dropping his ball and folding his arms. Mark tensed, fearing what was next.

"Your journey begins at dawn." And with that, Wakka was gone, and in his place was-

"Shew?"


End file.
